#my mood is better today anyway lol

[creekfiend]

seemingly a LITTLE bit better today... 🤞 managed to eat a plain baked chicken leg and a duck egg without incident

wahoo!

[iknowwhereyousnoozeatnight]

this one's for all the yuri enjoyers out there — nsft under cut

meronia event prompt(s): scar

[reverie-starlight]

I've been feeling extremely depressed this week, but I kid you not kuroo's bday is bringing me back to life today so if you see me going a bit wild on the dash, don't mind me <3

[skyward-floored]

have a big hug and some hot chocolate!

you’re amazing :)

Thank you so much anon :D

[mainfaggot]

today I put on a different mask and it felt better than the usual

[halloithmeagain]

.

[dokukoi]

🫠

[hyperexplosion]

.

[dinogoofymutated]

You asked for some smut suggestions for Logan, and I got one:

So like…I mean…Logan might be on the short side, but he’s still big! I mean, like,,,those hands 🫣 It would be nice to see a fic to do with Logan and a little manhandling. but not like in a BDSM way, more like a “I am very strong, and here’s a little reminder” type way. Might seem kinda silly but I’d enjoy a fic like that lol.

NSFW!Wolverine/AFAB!Reader Ask and you shall receive!! I've spent like the last four days working on this and atp I can't looks at it anymore lol. I'm not super happy with how the beginning is written, but I still think it's alright enough to post lol. It's a lot more tell than show compared to most of my other fics, and I was halfway tempted to reformat it into headcannons, but I didn't feel like it. Anyway, hope you like the way I included the manhandling lol! Hope it turned out okay :) Also, might or might not be tall logan. I'll leave it up to yall to assume, I'm just short af so there's not a single person in marvel who wouldn't have to look down at me lmao.

Edit:FUCK I FORGOT THE READ MORE! TWs: MDNI!!!!!! Seriously, you will be blocked. Masterbation, lil bit of a scent kink. Sexual frustration. Manhandling. Jealous Logan. Creampie. Logan calls you "sunshine" and pretty and shit. I'll add more if I can think of any.

    You had a problem. You’ve had a problem. And it really didn’t seem like it was getting any better. It didn’t help the fact that it was incredibly embarrassing, either.

    You couldn’t get off. It’s not like you ever struggled with it before, but lately, it felt like you were fighting a losing battle. At first, you didn’t realize why. Maybe it was because you moved into the X-Mansion. Nerves because you’re living somewhere new, right? So you change it up a little. You got comfortable, had a glass of wine or two, and picked up a raunchy book. Yet every time you slipped your hand between your thighs… Running circles around your own clit, trying your best to finger yourself to your finish, you just could never quite hit that peak. It was safe to say you were beyond frustrated.

    Lucky for you, most people didn’t notice. You try your best not to be too uptight or mean, but there are just some things that you can’t quite hide from certain people.

    Logan’s noticed that something is up with you. You can tell he has, seeing the looks on his face, nose scrunched up in a way he’s catching into something that he just can't quite place. You’re assuming it’s your own pheromones, but hey, as long as he doesn’t realize what it is you’ll be fine, right?

     Maybe not.

    Eventually, you finally realized why you were having so much trouble getting off. All it took was one training session with Wolverine, and you knew immediately. You weren’t sparring or anything like that, hell, you knew before you even hit the danger room floor. Logan was in a bit of a mood today, although not as grumpy as he can be- and he’s trying to be patient with you. You can tell. But you’re having trouble focusing today- and you have been for a while. He can tell you’re not at 100% just by the way you hold yourself, and spends about 5 minutes watching as you struggle to reset the Danger room panel before he’s finally fed up with it.

    “Jesus fuck. Here, let me do it.” Logan grabs you by the waist, pulling you to his chest with one arm as the other reaches around you to reset the panel. It’s not like you didn’t find him attractive before, but the close contact? The smell of his aftershave and the sound of his voice growling in your ear? 

    oh.

    Oh. 

    You were having trouble getting off because you had a thing for Logan.

    You’re practically stunned when he pulls away, standing there with a flushed face and something rather embarrassing pooling in your underwear for the first time in a while. You had to quickly excuse yourself before you ran the risk of him catching onto anything coming from you. He’s a little confused for a second, but you can hear the sound of his low chuckle as you scramble away.

    First thing you do? Go to the store.

    It's not a random errand. At least, not entirely. You had meant to go out with Storm to grocery shop later this afternoon, but you told her you could really use some time out of the house by yourself, which she completely understood. You had the list and everything, it was only a coincidence that you passed by the cologne section on your way to pick up some toothpaste. The sight made you stop for a minute, the gears grinding in your skull. You spent just a few minutes curiously sampling the bottles until you found one that smelled a bit familiar… Should you? No, that's a bit strange. But really, what was the harm, right? I mean, who would know? 

    So you bought it. You felt a bit embarrassed afterward, knowing what you bought it for, and ended up letting it sit in the drawer of your side table for a good while. Until another desperate attempt at fucking your own brains out, that is. 

    You were sweaty and uncomfortable in your bed, sleep shirt sticking to your skin as you struggled to pump your fingers in and out of your tight cunt. It’s been a while, and it shows. You couldn’t even get your favorite dildo to fit inside of you, only adding to your frustration. Touching your clit hardly helped much, leaving you as unsatisfied as ever. Eventually, you give up, lying there as you sigh to yourself. You turn over in your bed in a huff, halfway temped scream your lungs out into the pillow you bury your face in. Instead, you let out something that sounds more like a whisper than a yell, letting the air in your lungs deflate as you let your feelings out. You roll over onto your side when you’re done, halfway tempted to be done with it entirely and go back to bed when you catch sight of the nightstand drawer, slightly ajar. The amber bottle of liquid stares right at you. 

    You open the drawer some more, picking up the bottle and looking at it as you wonder if you’re actually going to do this. But you’re ridiculously horny, and tired, and you know you’re gonna have trouble falling asleep in the state you’re in- so you end up spraying the smallest amount on your pillow.

    It’s…nice. The pillow is warm from where you had been laying on it, and despite how strong men’s cologne could be, this one isn’t quite so striking. At least, not in the amount that you used. You relax back into your bed, pressing your face into the pillow and laying there for a moment. You start thinking about Logan… His calloused hands running across your skin. How his lips and tongue would feel against your own, trailing down your body to your breast. Your hand trails down to your clit as you imagine it as his own. You imagine him behind you, pressing you to the bed as he growls into your ear. You think about what his happy trail would feel like against you. What his cock would look like, feel like, pressing into you. Your legs twitch and shake as you see stars underneath your eyelids, the scent of Logan hitting all the right parts in your head and going straight to your cunt.

    Holy shit. 

    Your orgasm lasts what feels like forever. Your legs are still shaking as you whimper from oversensitivity and pull your hand away, panting as you try to catch your breath. You haven’t cum that hard since… ever. Maybe the cologne was worth it, after all.

    You felt really good the morning after. You found yourself humming in the shower, more energized at breakfast and morning drills. No one had said anything, but you knew there were a few who were relieved to see you back to your usual self. If anything, the only person you noticed acting very differently around you was Logan. He was more tense than normal. He scowled a lot, spending less time in your presence. You’d strike up a conversation that would only last a few minutes before he would make an excuse and leave. It made you a little disappointed. But you knew him and knew he had good and bad days, so you brushed it off at first. But a week, two weeks- almost a month went by, and still no change. You felt scorned almost, silently rejected by the guy you had finally realized you were practically in love with, and to be honest, the only man who could get you off just by thinking about him- and boy, did you get off while thinking about him. 

    You’ve almost resigned yourself to the fact that Logan wasn’t interested when he corners you one morning. He’s leaning up against the wall of the hallway,  waiting for you when you step out of your room. It makes you jump a little, closing your door quickly behind you, knowing damn well you hadn’t washed your sheets after fucking yourself to the moon and back last night and fully not wanting the smell to hit his nose. All Logan does is narrow his eyes. Shit.

    “Who is he.” He asks you. The question completely derails your train of thought. And you furrow your brow, confused. What was that about?

    “Who is he? Your guy?” He asks again, but it does little to clear up your confusion. You’re halfway wondering if he’s being serious at this point, stepping away from your door as you cross your arms.

    “What?” You ask. Logan huffs when you respond to him, cocking his head at you in a way that's more sarcastic than curious. The way he’s looking at you is doing some things that you don’t think you’d like to admit, eyes narrow and scrutinizing as you struggle to keep eye contact with him.

    “What do you mean? What guy?” You repeat back to him, starting to get a little frustrated. He snorts, rolling his eyes as his scowl lingers. He steps closer, looking down at you from less than a foot away with that angry stare.

    “Don’t play stupid with me, sunshine. I can smell him on you.” You ignore the way the nickname makes you shiver a little bit, too busy shrinking into yourself when you process the extent of his words. Smell. He could smell someone on you. Something. Oh god, this was embarrassing. 

    “Oh! That- It’s not what you're thinking!” You say, face flushed red. You’re flustered beyond belief, doing your best to convince him to leave it be, and it’s not going so well for you.

    “Sure it’s not.” Logan huffs. He starts to take steps forward, closing in on your personal space.

    “It’s not. I can promise you that.” You’re anxiously fiddling with your fingers now, taking a step back for every step he takes. He looked predatory, unlike any time you’ve seen him before. You haven’t even seen him like this in the danger room, even less so on the battlefield. 

    “Just tell me who he is.” Logan is adamant about it, his scowl beginning to turn into a frown. Your back hits your door, kickstarting your heart in surprise. You hadn’t realized he had backed you up so far.

    “I can’t!” You say, in the beginning stages of becoming absolutely exasperated, and already incredibly embarrassed. 

    “Why not!?” Logan Snaps, stopping just inches away from you. You cover your heated face, pressing your palms into your eyes until you see shapes, wanting nothing more than to curl up and die right then and there.

    “Would you just leave it!” You shout, but Logan’s having none of it. 

    “No, I won't!” Logan grabs your wrists and moves them away from your face, holding them in front of your chest with a grip lighter than you might have thought. You groan in utter frustration and mortification, looking him dead in the eyes as your angry mouth starts speaking before your reasonable brain can fully catch up.

    “Jesus Christ Logan! Do you expect me to just whip out the silicone and show you?!” Your eyes widen as soon as you say it, slamming your mouth shut as you finally catch up with yourself. Logan is staring at you in absolute shock, jaw almost slack at the confession. 

    “...What?” He asks, slowly. You wince, looking off to the side before deciding it's a bit too late to get the cat back into the bag.

    “Its… Cologne. What you’re smelling. I use it to uh, help me…” You make a sort of gesture with your head, praying that you won’t actually have to spell it out for him. He’s still in shock as he looks at you, hands frozen with his fingers wrapped around your wrists. He clears his throat when he comes to, an unreadable expression on his face as he slowly steps forward again, close enough to press his forehead against your own as he presses you against your door.

    “You’re that pent up, you need cologne to help you get off?” He asks, and you don’t know what to say, cat catching your tongue as he leans forward. The side of his face brushes against your cheek as he leans down a little, the action making your skin prickle. One of his hands releases a wrist to slide up and across the back of your neck, tilting your head to the side as he takes a big sniff of your skin. He’s practically nuzzling you, angling his head so that he can smell the scent on the back of your head where you rest against your pillow at night. 

    He’d noticed it before, at night when most of his anger had worn off, sometime after he started to pick up the scent on you. The undertones, the top notes. But now with you this close, he can tell that it wasn’t another man he was smelling. No. It was just you. Your scent being drowned out by the smell of something that he could finally tell smelled rather suspiciously like his very own aftershave.

    “...Don’t tell me that you wanted it to smell like me.” He asks after a moment. You almost flinch at the sound of his deep rumble, turning your red face away from him. You swallow, feeling like you are absolutely burning up as you nod- right as Logan catches the unmistakable scent of arousal.

    “Fuck”

    You’re sure the sound was more animal than man as he cups your cheek rather aggressively, pressing his lips against your own in a rather desperate kiss. It takes you a second to return it, eyes wide as you process just what was happening. It didn't take long for you to melt into his desperate kisses though, every nip and brush of his teeth just like you imagined it would be. He presses his knee in between your thighs, finally releasing your other wrist to grab ahold of your hip instead. You accidentally let out a whine when he grinds your hips against him, your heart beating so fast you were sure it was going to explode. He curses again at the sound, both hands sliding around you to lift you against the door.

    You practically squeak in surprise, the noise caught by Logan’s mouth on your own one more time before he trails down to your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin. You gasp as he presses against you, his hips beginning to grind against your own. You’re having a hard time thinking, biting your lip as you do your best to stifle your sounds.

    “Logan-ah, can we… head inside, please?” He only grunts in response, shifting your weight as you both begin to fumble for the doorknob. He gets it before you do, hardly stumbling as the door behind you swings open. He’s kissing you again before the door is even closed, kicking it behind him. As preoccupied as you are, you at least have the common sense to reach over and try to lock the door before he carries you over to the bed. 

    He plops you down onto the mattress before he crawls over you, eyes half-lidded and just as lustful as your own. He pushes you down as you try to sit up. His breathing a little hard, pupils dilated to a size you had never seen.

    “Now I know why you closed the door so fast,” Logan smirks, having picked up the lingering scent of your sex on the sheets right away. You open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off. His tongue snakes into your mouth, and you find that you can’t really remember what you were going to say anyway. He kisses you again and again, distracting you as he reaches above your head. He pulls away when he has the pillow in hand, and you know just by the look on his face that he knows exactly what he is holding.

    “Hate to break it to you, but this doesn’t exactly compare to the real thing.” He snarks. It makes you laugh, and for the first time in a while, you see a genuine smile spread across his face. 

    “Yeah.” You respond, taking the pillow from his hands and tossing it to a far-off corner. “I know.” You could revel in his smile for as long as he’d let you. Logan’s kisses start off sweeter this time, at least for a moment they did. They begin to become more and more rough as hands start to wander and clothes start to come off. His shirt is first to go, your hands running up and down the hair that spans his torso. Logan is quick to remove your shirt and bra in one go, one very small step away from cutting off your clothes entirely. He gives himself a minute to appreciate your breasts, pinching and teasing you by sliding a hand up the middle of your sternum, the back of his hand brushing the side of a tit as he watches you squirm underneath him, arching your back to push your chest out, practically begging him to finally touch you.

    “Patience is a virtue, Sunshine.” Logan says, causing you to scoff. You glare at him a little and all it does is make him chuckle a bit. 

    “Don’t be mean.” You whine. He laughs a bit harder as he finally lowers himself to your chest. He keeps his eyes locked on your own as he brushes the blunt ends of his teeth across the soft skin, but he’s never been the most patient man. It doesn't take him long to give in to you, sucking on each breast individually, massaging the soft skin of the opposite as he does so. 

    “Careful.” He growls when your own hands begin to wander, touching him over the fabric of his jeans. He releases your nipple with a pop, bearing his teeth as he presses his face back into your neck. You don't pay much mind to that, rather enjoying the grunts and sounds he makes as you slowly stroke his covered hardness from base to tip. You can't imagine how restrained he must be feeling. You can’t help but smirk a little as your hands drift up and down, before oh So slowly unbuckling his belt. Logan is agitated, practically bucking his hips into your hands to get you to just get over with it. 

    “Patience is a virtue.” You quote, only earning a restraining hold on your hands once again.

    “Fuck that.” Logan growls. He holds you by your wrists, pushing them above your head as he uses his free hand to remove his belt and frantically unbuckle his pants. You'd be complaining if it weren't for the view of his straining cock, slapping against his abdomen as he pulls his pants down. 

    You don't get to stare for too long before he flips you on your stomach like you weigh nothing. He lets your wrists go to pull down your shorts and underwear, a sticky string of your slick thinning as he pulls the items down.

    “Fuck. You're this wet from just that?” Logan asks you, taking two fingers and sliding them through your lips from behind, spreading his fingers to let himself see the mess you've made of yourself already.

    “...shut up.” You mumble, more focused on the feeling of those very same fingers sliding back and forth across your cunt, the tips just barely brushing against your clit every time. Logan chuckles, sliding one hand under your lower stomach to lift your hips with ease. Your hips buck as he slides a thick finger inside of you without warning, slowly sinking down to his knuckle with ease.

    “Might not even need foreplay at this rate.” Logan rumbles behind you, eyes set squarely on the sight of your pretty pussy spread wide open for him. You can only moan in response as he pulls it back out again, plunging a second finger into you this time. Your hands clutch the sheets as Logan begins to finger fuck you to his content, curling those thick digits to hit that one spot juuust right. You try not to buck or squirm too bad, halfway wondering if this is all just some wet dream. 

    “Logan-” You call out for him through your moans. He only hums in reply, preoccupied at the moment.

    “I- god- I need your cock, please.” You're not sure if it was the phrase or the begging, but it makes Logan groan. You feel embarrassingly empty as he pulls his fingers out. You hear the sound of him stroking his hard cock with your slick, groaning and humming to himself before he picks you up. He leans over you, adjusting to you your hands and knees as you finally feel that thick, thick cock grinding against you. You gasp at the way it feels, feeling Logan smirk against your back.

    “Having second thoughts?” The tone of his voice is teasing, but you know there's more than that behind the words. You vehemently shake your head, grinding back against him a little as you protest. Logan swears under his breath, holding onto your hips to keep them still as he sits up.

    Both of you groan each time the head of his cock catches on your clit, Logan thrusting through your lips again and again as he lubes himself with the wetness you provide for him. You gasp when his head catches on your slot, notching just right. 

    Logan pushes into you so slowly, and you feel like he's thicker than you ever imagined he would be. You're impatient, desperate. You push back onto him in an attempt to take him in more, but his hands on your hips stop you.

    “Believe me sweetheart, you don't want that yet.” Logan tells you, straining himself with how tight you feel around him. He soothingly rubs his thumbs against your skin, pressing into you until you have him completely, balls deep inside you. 

    “Please, please. Logan, Please, I need you to move.” Your begging starts to sound like nonsense to your own ears, but it makes Logan gasp all the same, his cock twitching from where it's buried inside of you. You practically cry in relief when he finally begins to thrust Inside of you.

    His hip smack against your ass with every thrust, the sound of the slap mixed with the sounds of your love and the headboard hitting the wall a lewd and filthy symphony. Even better than your own moans were Logan's himself. Each and every groan and growl above you gave you a whole new array of things to imagine while fucking yourself- if you ever had to do so again. 

    You whine and whimper with every strong thrust, Logan slow and forceful with every movement. It felt like he wanted your insides to memorize exactly how his cock feels inside of you, and you doubt you'd ever mind it. He filled you perfectly, hitting every sweet spot inside of you.

    Your arms are shaking. Struggling to hold yourself up with each and every rock of the bed. You barely start to buckle when He catches hold of you, an arm snacking under your chest and pulling you towards him. His hand spans your collarbone as he holds your back against his chest, holding you up as he continues to fuck you like no one before. You're closing in on that sweet release when his hips stutter a moment. His teeth dig into your shoulder with a sharp bite, holding you there close to him without breaking the skin.

    “Are… are you -ah- close?” You ask. Logan only responds with a short and simple - “Fuck!” - before he pulls out of you.

    You don't have time to whine about the emptiness before he's flipping you around, kissing you again as he pushes your back to the bed rather aggressively. He's quick to sling your legs over his arms, folding you in half as he sides fully into you in a single thrust. He's hitting you so much deeper in this position, chest pressed against your own as his thrusts continue to stutter. 

    Logan kisses you again, a bit differently than the last ones have been. These kisses are tender, sweet. A stark difference between his needy, frantic thrusts. There's a line of spit between you two as he pulls away, half-lidded eyes meeting your own. You’re closing in on your peak, and you can tell he is too. The pleasure is too much for you to handle at once, and you can't help but squeeze your eyes shut.

    “Look at me.” Logan grabs a hold of your chin, your eyes flying open as he thumbs at your lip and holds your head still. “Don't look away.” His hips stutter some more, the both of you groaning as you clench around him, desperately trying to keep your eyes open as you finally cum around his cock. The fluttering of your walls are more than enough to send Logan over the edge, his cum warming your insides in thick spurts. Logan buries his face into your neck, groaning as you ride out both of your orgasms.

    The two of you lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath. Logan lets go of your sore legs, massaging your thighs as he presses sweet, comforting kisses to your cheek and temple. His hands wander up and down your sides, doing his best to soothe your aches without you even having to ask. -not that he would ever admit to having a soft side. Who would believe you if you told them that The Wolverine was a cuddler after sex anyway?

    “Why didn't you just tell me?” You ask after a long moment. Logan hums, his Face tucked into the crook of your neck.

    “Tell you what?”

    “That you were jealous.” Logan only snorts at that, playfully pinching your side.

    “Jealous of what? Your cologne?” He returns. You slap him on the shoulder as he chuckles at you, unable to stop the playful smile on your face.

    “You mean the cologne that you thought was a whole-ass guy?” Logan stops at that, instead choosing to cover your mouth with his palm as he tucks his head closer.

    “You're a lot prettier when you're quiet. You know that?”

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

Emmy listen- I got a great idea but I need your beautiful mind for it. Feel free to just ignore me buut like what if for a daddy Chan idea where he accidentally yells at reader and they leave? Like a nice angst -> comfort. Ugh. I just know you’re so good with this series and I just love it and you but like you more lol. Annnywaaays I’m rambling have a good day lol

do you think beary will forgive me?

pairing: daddy!chan x princess!reader

genre: angst with a happy ending

word count: 2 ss and ~2.3k

warnings: very very brief mentions of dying (not real dying, it’s in reference to a tv show lol), yelling, lots of crying, pet names.

an: saturn, i hope this is what you were looking for. i hope i did it justice. it’s still crazy to me that one of my faves thought that i would be the best person to write their idea. anyway, this is absolutely devastating. so enjoy. lol i’m shy but i’ll try to reach out to you more, i’d like for us to be better friends. :)

masterlist

!! my requests are now closed until i’m caught up !! :)

the tv blared loudly as your newest drama obsession reached its peak, the main character sick in a hospital bed while the love of her life cries and begs her to pull through.

“if she dies, i’m going to freak out.” you say out loud. to no one in particular, as the apartment was empty. you glanced at your phone for the time. you got excited. daddy should be home any minute. your attention was pulled back to the screen as the main character wakes up from her coma. “oh thank god.” you say to yourself, clutching your blanket tightly, sinking further into the couch cushions.

you don’t hear the door lock beeping or the mechanical whirring of the mechanism as it unlocks and clicks open. a weary chan stumbles inside, kicking off his shoes. if you weren’t so entranced by your show, you would notice how tense he is. how his shoulders and neck look stiff with exhaustion, his brow furrowed with agitation.

he drags his feet through the house until he finds you in the living room. you see his frame in the doorway and jump up from the couch, running to him. “daddy!” you exclaim. you throw your arms around his neck, clinging to his body. he reluctantly wraps his arms around you, squeezing gently. it lasts only a second before he pulls away.

“do you have to have the tv that loud?” he scolds. your smile drops and you feel embarrassed. you felt stupid for having the volume up that loud. you race back to the couch, flinging the blanket to the side in search of the remote. after a moment, you find it and quickly shut the tv off, plunging the room into silence. you turn back around, but you’re alone again. there’s no longer a daddy in the room. you huff a disappointed sound and shuffle your slippered feet across the floor in search of him.

you ultimately find him in the bathroom, pulling his shirt off over his head. while his face is covered, you rush up behind him, wrapping your arms around his middle. you’ve done this so many times and he always loves it. always tells you how cute you are and how much he loves you. but… not today.

he discards his shirt on the floor before pulling your hands free of his waist and gently pushing you away. he makes eye contact with you in the mirror before saying “i need to take a shower.”

“oh.. okay.” you say. you force a smile to your face, determined to put him in a better mood. he must have had a very long day. he looks away before even noticing your smile, turning to switch the shower on. he kicks his shorts off and steps inside, without saying another word.

you were shocked. and also, kind of sad. he didn’t even seem excited to see you at all. you didn’t get any hugs, or any kisses, not even a head pat. you wondered if you did something wrong, wondered if you were just being dramatic or being too needy. maybe he finally got tired of you like you always feared. tears pricked your eyes. you forced them away, shaking your head.

no. you would not cry. you are a big girl.

unsure of what to do, and missing him terribly, you sat on the floor of the bathroom, waiting for him to be done. sometimes you would talk to him while he was showering, asking him about his day. but you felt like that wasn’t the best move right now. so you sat silently, patiently, playing with the loose strings on the bathmat. finally the water shut off and a muscular hand reached out in blind search of a towel. he found one and you could hear him drying himself, before he flung the curtain open to find you sitting on the floor. you smiled up at him, just excited to be near him, happy that he was finally home.

“what are you doing?” he asked, deadpan.

you didn’t like his tone. it was cold and very un daddy like.

“i was.. waiting for you to be done.” you said, your smile faltering a little.

he sighed. “i can’t even get a minute alone in the fucking shower?”

you felt like you had been slapped. “wh-what?”

he stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, and walked right past you and into the bedroom.

the tears were back at your waterline, threatening to spill. you carefully stood up on shaky legs and walked to the bedroom. you peeked your head around the door frame and saw him pulling a pair of boxers on, hair dripping onto his bare shoulders.

you wanted to say something, but he said he wanted to be alone? you didn’t want to bother him. but he never talked like that. if he ever needed alone time, he would sweetly tell you that before setting you up a movie or activity to do while he spent some time with himself. you couldn’t remember a time when he had ever cursed at you. your mind again wondered if you had done something wrong. something to upset him. he noticed you standing silently in the doorway.

“damn it, y/n!” he yelled. “i said i want to be left alone. what the fuck don’t you understand!?” he stomped toward the door, toward you, his face scrunched up in anger. you had never seen that face on him before. he had never talked to you this way and it really scared you. he grabbed the door and slammed it shut in your face. you stumbled and fell backwards onto the floor, landing on your butt and scraping your palm in the process of trying to catch yourself.

you silently cried on the floor for a moment. your heart raced with fear, with hurt. your palm stung. you wiped your tears and shakily walked to the living room. you grabbed your phone and walked out the front door, not a destination in mind, cow slippers still on your feet.

you stared at the door handle to your apartment. you had been hiding in the cold emergency stairwell of your apartment building, unsure of where to go. you reached your hand out. you wanted to go inside. wanted to feel the safety of the four walls and locking door. you even wanted for chan to hold you. for him to tell you that everything was alright. that you were safe now. but how could he make you feel safe, when he was the one who scared you in the first place? your stomach was in knots. would he yell again? he promised he wouldn’t.. would he be mad at you? mad that you couldn’t give him space, mad that you left without telling him where you were going? your hand shook as you reached for the handle. you took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

chan was sat on the edge of the couch, his phone clutched in one fist, his other hand was at his mouth, nervously biting on his thumb nail. when he heard the door to the apartment open, he stood up abruptly, his phone clattering to the floor. he took a step in your direction. you noticed him, and the fear in your eyes broke his heart. the door clicked shut behind you quietly. you stood in the entryway, not making a move further into the apartment. he took another step toward you, fighting the urge to run to you and scoop you up in his arms. but you flinched, and took a step back. your eyes were wide with fear and hurt and he didn’t know what to do to make it better. for once in your relationship, daddy didn’t know how to fix it.

he sank to his knees in the middle of the living room, head hung low. you were confused at first. and then your confusion turned to worry, all your fears melting away. you slowly approached him, stopping a few feet away. his shoulders shook.

“daddy..?” you said, your voice soft.

he looked up at you, tears in his eyes, his face scrunched up in pain as he fought the urge to sob like a baby.

you had only ever seen him cry once, when he watched a particularly sad movie with you, but this was completely different. this was devastation in his eyes. you knelt in front of him. now face to face, you reached out and wiped his tears off his cheeks with the pads of your fingers.

“daddy don’t cry..”

his eyes locked on your palm, the scrape clearly visible as you collected his tears. he looked back to you, before gently reaching for your hand. he held it in his, palm up, examining the damage.

“baby what happened?” he asked, his voice thick with tears.

“i.. fell.” you say. “when you slammed the door.. i fell.”

his face contorted in pain again and his head fell forward. his tears splashed onto your palm and onto the floor.

“baby.. i’m so sorry.” he sobbed. he messily kissed your injured palm.

“it’s okay..” you comforted him.

he shook his head. “it’s not okay.” he looked up at you, gently squeezing your hand, careful of the scrape. “daddy is supposed to protect you. but i.. i caused this.” his eyes looked to the ceiling as he tried to stop his tears from flowing.

“did.. i do something?” you asked, your own tears coming to the surface again. “to make you mad?”

his free hand came to your cheek, stroking gently. “no, baby. of course not. you were just excited to see me and i yelled at you. what kind of daddy does that?”

“why did you yell then?” you asked.

“it’s been such a long day.. it seemed like everyone needed something from me.” he sniffled. “i just wanted to be alone. and away from everyone. and then when i got home and you were right there, i just.. i lost it.” he looked into your eyes, the glassy surface mirroring yours. “i am so so sorry. i can’t imagine how scared you must have been. i will never, ever, yell at you again. i promise.”

“i was really scared.” you confessed. “i’ve never seen you like that.”

“and you shouldn’t have. daddy should never yell at his princess.” just when he thought his tears were under control, his bottom lip started to quiver again. “you were just excited to see me..”

he felt terrible. awful at how he treated you. he felt undeserving of his title. the whole day was heavy on his shoulders, exhaustion taking over his body now that you were home and he knew you were safe.

“i thought maybe you got tired of me..” you said.

“what?” his heart squeezed, like the knife that had been plunged inside it already was now turning. “baby i could never get tired of you.”

you looked down at your injured hand, your own tears falling freely.

“i’m always so needy. always clinging to you.”

“and i love that. i really do. baby i promise that you did absolutely nothing wrong. this is all daddy’s fault.” he tilted your face up to look at him. “you are my perfect little baby, yeah?”

you sniffled, but did your best to nod your head in his hand.

“you. are. perfect.” he said again. enunciating each word, really wanting to make sure you understood.

“can.. can i hold you?” he asked. you nodded in response. “are you sure? tell me with words.”

“yes i’m sure. you can hold me.”

he sat down on his butt, his back leaning against the couch, and he pulled you into his lap. your face was in the crook of his neck and he wrapped his strong arms around you. he held you tight. he had a thought that maybe it was too tight. but when he tried to loosen his hold, you gripped onto him tighter, his t-shirt balled up in your little fists. you cried quietly into his shirt, relief flooding through you as you were finally where you belonged.

“baby i’m so sorry.” he said against your hair, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “i will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. i will never scare you ever again. it’s.. it’s eating away at me.” he rubbed his hand across your back.

“do you think you could ever forgive me?” he asked.

you pulled away slightly to look at him properly. “i forgive you, daddy.”

tears threatened to spill down his cheeks again, but he refused. “really?”

you nodded. “you didn’t mean to scare me. you didn’t mean to yell.” you said. “but please don’t ever do it again.”

he shook his head, squeezing you tight. “i won’t. i promise.”

you held your pinky out. he let out a watery chuckle before linking his pinky with yours. “i pinky promise, baby.”

your head fell back to his shoulder and he continued to stroke your back, gently rocking both your bodies back and forth. it was quiet for a moment before he asked, “do you think Beary will forgive me?”

“hmm..” you thought. “i don’t know. he’s very protective of me.”

“i know he is. im a little nervous to face him.”

you laughed and he laughed too, your hearts feeling lighter now that you had each other again. and as he continued to rock you, your eyes grew heavy, your body exhausted from the long evening. you would eventually pass out on his shoulder and he would carry you to bed, tucking the cover around you, and kissing your forehead.

he would mutter an ‘i love you.’ and one more ‘i’m sorry.’ before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

♡ pls reblog if you liked it! it truly helps a lot and makes me smile :) ♡

©hyunjins-orange-slice-too i do not give permission for this work or any of my work to be translated, copied, or reposted.

[homestylehughes]

reading interruptions

pairing(s): quinn hughes x fem!reader

summary: when yn gets interrupted by quinn and his dirty mouth, while reading on the boat.

warning(s): plot with porn, smut 18+, oral fem!receiving, dirty talk, cussing. quinn has a dirty mouth in this. fluff, cute reader and quinn.

wc: 2.8k

an: hiiiii!!! new quinn ficcccc. i will never leave my quinn era. ever. recently ive been in a summer mood, first with sundresses and now with boats idk whats going on LOL. i honestly dont know where this idea came from, and for some reason i think it's bad? idk maybe ive just been looking at it too long i couldnt tell you LOL. so let me know if you guys like it or not. anyways!! i'll stop yapping now. i hope you guys enjoyyyy, like and reblog if you do! as always much love <3

happy reading <3

The morning sun comes through the window, peeking through everglow slightly illuminating the room, casting a light glow over the walls and a sleeping quinn. Quinns body lays partially over mine, our legs intertwined together. his face nuzzled into my neck, soft snores leave his mouth as he sleeps soundly against me.

There weren't many days where I'd wake up before Quinn, his schedule keeping and waking him up at the early hours of the day. Ever since the hockey season ended in a heartbreaking loss in the playoffs, he'd been sleeping more, getting the much deserved rest he’s needed. Quinn wanted away from hockey, from Vancouver, so he decided heading to the lake house earlier than usual to get away from everyone would be the fix. 

Which leads us to the position we're in now, my hands moving slowly up and down his back as he still sleeps soundly against me. Quinn always looks the most peaceful when he’s sleeping, so at peace and calm.

I feel quinns body shift slightly besides me, feeling him roll away from me, my body already feeling cold without his warmth beside me. I sit up in the bed, watching Quinn stretch and yawn himself awake, rubbing his eyes like a little kid before he turns to me with a soft smile on his face.

“Good morning” he says, his voice thick with sleep. 

“Good morning handsome” I smile back “sleep well?” 

“Mhm” he mumbles out as he makes his way to me from across the bed, grabbing my thighs pulling me on top of him. 

“Hi” i giggle from above him 

“Hi baby” he grins at me, his hands finding my neck pulling me down into a sweet kiss. My hands lay flat against his chest as I melt into the kiss. After a few moments I pull away to catch my breath, and to get a better look at him. The glow of the sun now being at its brightest, covering most of the room. Highlighting Quinn's body, his golden brown locks and blue eyes shining brightly in the glow. 

“You look so pretty” I say, as I bring my hands to his cheeks, running my fingers over his jaw, over every scar. Tracing and taking in everything part of him, memorizing every line like I've never seen them before. Quinn blushes at my complement, nuzzling his face into my hand, a smile breaking through on his features as he does so.

“Thank you baby” he says, bringing his head back to lay against the pillow looking back at me. “What do you want to do today?” his hands running across my bare thighs, his touch spreading warmth throughout my body. 

“Could we go on the boat?” i ask

“Is that what you want to do?” he asks me again.

“Mhm, yes. I even brought a new book to read to you, just for this, " I say with a smile.

 Quinn loves when i read to him, the peaceful feeling of being on the boat, the waves flowing beneath would be the perfect setting. 

“Alright you've convinced me, maybe we could even have lunch on the boat too? If you're up for that?” 

“That's fine with me, just want to be around you” I say before dropping my head into his neck, breathing in his scent, his arms circling around my waist pulling my body flush against his. 

“Okay baby” he says into my hair

 “Okay come on, let's get up. '' I said, lifting myself from him, patting his chest before swinging my legs off of him getting out of bed.

“I'm cominggggg” Quinn says from the bed, as I make my way to the bathroom, turning back around to see him lying face down in the middle of the bed, his arms and legs fanning out across the bed. 

Giggles rip through my body as I look at his childlike state, shaking my head as I take another glance at him before turning around heading to the bathroom to start getting ready for my day.

Taking a quick shower, throwing on a random swimsuit, before heading down stairs to start making lunch for myself and Quinn to take on the boat. 

Deciding on sandwiches and chips, with some fruit would be the best option for lunch. Just as I'm packing everything up I see Quinn coming down the stairs, in a pair of black swim trunks and a Canucks shirt. 

'What did you pack for lunch?’ he asks, pressing a kiss to the side of my head, walking behind me to the fridge to grab bottles of water before turning back the counter, putting the bottles of water in the cooler.

“Sandwiches, chips and fruit, is that okay with you?” I say as I place the food into the cooler along with the water, closing the top before looking up at quinn. 

“Yeah that's fine with me baby, perfect” he says leaning in for a quick kiss

“Do you have everything you need?” he says while grabbing the cooler from the counter walking towards the back door

“Yes I think so, let me go grab my bag from the couch then I'm ready” I say smiling at him, making my way to the living room grabbing my bag that has my book, sunglasses and other things in it, pulling it over my shoulder before following Quinn out the back door.

Following him down the dock towards the boat, reaching the boat, Quinn got on first placing the cooler down before turning around offering me his hand, helping me step on the boat. 

Walking over, placing my things on one of the seats, turning around, taking a look at the lake, the site never fails to take my breath away. I feel Quinn's arms circle my waist, pulling my body against his. 

“Where do you wanna go today?” he asks me, his chin resting on my shoulder as he looks out at the lake. 

“Doesn't matter me” i say turning around wrapping my arms around his neck, “take us where the wind takes you” 

“That was so corny” he laughs 

“Yeah it sounded better in my head..” i say laughing along with him

“It was still cute” he says, giving a kiss to my forehead, turning around making his way to the dock, untying the boat from the dock. 

“Okay ma'am we’re about to take off, all passengers please remain in your seats” he says with a smile spreading along his features. 

“Yes caption” I say, saluting him, taking a seat on the boat.

Making his way to the cockpit sitting down, turning on the boat before taking off along the water, the wind blowing in my hair as we ride across the lake

The boat rocks gently to the calm waves that run through the lake, Quinn docking the boat, now at a standstill in the middle of the lake. The bright summer sun beating on our skin, the warmth casting over my body as I grab my book, before settling back in my seat. Moving a pillow to rest under my neck and part of my upper back, laying down to rest myself against it, pulling my knees up, so i can rest my book on my thighs opening it book, i begin reading,

The romance novel pulls me into an alternate reality so deep that  I forget that I'm even on the boat with Quinn until his voice breaks through the silence. 

“I missed it out here” he says his eyes looking around the lake taking in it like it's his first time seeing it, “i forgot how peaceful it is out here” he continues.

“ It's so peaceful out here, it's nice to see you so relaxed” I say to Quinn, looking at him above the pages of my book.

“I thought you were supposed to read to me baby?” he asks

“Come over here” I say with a smile, opening my legs so he can rest in between them. his footsteps padding across the boat, as he lays himself between my legs, his warm skin laying against mine, his arms circling around my waist as he pulls himself closer to me. 

“Comfortable?” I say looking down at him, his head resting against my stomach, Quinn shaking his head up and down in response. 

“Good. okay, now where was I?” my eyes searched for where I left off on my page, finding my spot again, taking a deep breath before I began reading. My eyes glance down every few minutes to see if Quinn is asleep or not, occasionally feeling his fingers trace down my sides, as I continue to read to him. Just as I'm getting to an interesting part in my chapter, I feel Quinn's body move lower against mine, not thinking anything of his movement. I continue reading. 

Pausing to take a deep breath before reading the next line, I feel a warm kiss being placed right below my belly button, causing me to stop reading, lifting the book up, looking down at Quinn whose face is right in front of my covered core, his eyes locked with mine. 

“What are you doing?” I ask slightly confused at his actions

“Nothing, just wanted to lay down here, keep reading for me baby” 

“Okay” I say before licking my lips, picking up on the unread line. 

I don't even make it through half the page before I feel Quinn pressing more kisses across my lower stomach, kissing all along the top of my bottoms. His fingers sliding under the ties on the slides pulling down slightly, rubbing his fingers along the skin under. 

Clearing my throat before starting again, my brain struggling to register the words I'm reading, all of my focus on the man between my legs. My brain goes completely to mush, when I feel quinn pressed kisses against my covered core, my breath immediately hitching at the sudden touch. 

“Quinn, i'm trying to read '' my eyes locking with his, a small smirk dances along his face. 

“No ones stopping you from reading baby” he says, his fingers moving under the sides of my bottoms. 

His hands move to pull on one of the strings that hold the left side of my bottom together, pulling it apart with one tug, repeating the same action on the other side, his eyes still locked with mine. 

“Quinn '' my breath hitching, as he moved his thumbs under the now loosened fabric, peeling it back, exposing my bare cunt, the wind casting a slight breeze causing me to shutter when it hits my exposed center. 

“Quinn” I say again, my voice slightly higher than the previous attempt, trying to get his attention. 

“Yes?” 

“What are you doing? I thought you wanted me to read to you?” 

“I did, but now I want to hear that pretty mouth make some other noises,” he says, before grabbing the loosened bottoms from my body, throwing them somewhere on the boat. Grabbing the book out of my hands, closing it, throwing it in the same direction. 

“Quinn, are you serious, I was reading!” I am slightly annoyed but turned on at the sudden change of Quinn's intentions.

“Shhhhhh, lay back and let me have a taste” his eyes locked with mine as he began tracing random shapes on the insides of my thighs, his hand inching closer and closer to my exposed cunt. 

I couldn't help but comply with his words, his face inching closer and closer to my center, I felt his warm breath against my folds. His tongue darted out, licking a stripe down my center. My head falls back against the pillow, as he begins to lick at my folds. his hands pulling my thighs apart, gaining better access to my cunt. 

His tongue finds my clit as he begins to run his tongue along the bud, my jaw falling slack as my hands grab his hair, needing something to stabilize myself with. As he continues to lap up my clit, like a popsicle on a hot summer day. 

“Quinn, fuck” I moan out from above him, his movements never slowing running his tounge over every part of my cunt. The sound of him sucking up everybit of my wetness, is like music to my ears.

“Taste so good baby” he mutters against my cunt, before diving back in, his hands pulling my thighs further apart as he continues to devour my cunt. 

“Quinn don't stop please” my chest rising and falling quickly as I struggle to catch my breath. My body feels like it's on fire, not just from the heat of the sun on my skin but from the feeling of Quinn’s burning touch.

His tongue continues to thrust in and out of my weeping hole, my moans growing louder and louder as I feel myself getting closer to my peak. 

“Fuck look at you baby” pulling his face away from my cunt, bringing two of his fingers dragging them through my cunt, my wetness coating his fingers. 

“Look at that baby” he says now looking up at me, holding the two fingers in front of him, “do you wanna taste?” he asks me 

Nodding my head in a yes, Quinn brings his fingers to my mouth pushing my lips apart, shoving them into my mouth slowly. My tongue swirls around the digits, the taste of my cunt wrapping around each of my taste buds. 

My eyes are locked with Quinn’s as I continue to suck on his fingers, his eyes hooded with mine, blown with lust and he looks up at me. He slowly pulls the fingers out of my mouth, a string of saliva following them. Tracing his fingers down my stomach down to my core, before running them across my cunt, my body itching around nothing from the action. 

“Quinn” i whine

“What baby?” he says as continues to run his fingers along my cunt. 

“Do you want my fingers? Is that what you want?” 

“Yes fuck please” i whine again, my hands finding his hair again pulling it, hoping that, that will urge him along. 

“So needy baby” he says laughing against my cunt, placing a kiss to my slit before pushing two fingers into my cunt. 

My head dropping back instantly, my body feeling full, as he starts thrusting his fingers in and out. Broken moans are falling from my lips, my eyes closed as my body moves against his. Moving my hips to help meet his thrusts. 

“Right there right there” I moaned, my legs beginning to shake as I felt myself about to come. 

“Quinn” i whine out, as he attaches his mouth to my clit, rolling his tongue over it, as his fingers continue to fuck me. 

“Please dont stop fuck” lifting my head to look at quinn, the sight of him inbetween my legs, mouth wrapped around my clit, as i watch his fingers thrust in and out me, takes my breath away. 

Quinn's eyes looking up, locking them with mine, his movements never stilling. My hips continue to move against his, the burning feeling in the pit of my stomach continues to grow with every touch, thrust, everything setting my body a blaze. 

One last curl of his fingers sends me into a frenzy, my head dropping back against the pillow, my month agape but no words are coming out. My legs shaking as I come, my hands still in Quinn's hair pulling the locks so hard that it probably hurts. My vision clouds over as my orgasm takes over my body. 

I don't even realize Quinn's fingers have left my body, until I feel him pressing kisses along my neck. My eyes opened slowly, my chest still rising and falling, struggling to catch my breath and find my words. 

“Are you with me, pretty girl?” Quinn says, looking down at me, pushing hair that's fallen into my face back. 

“Yeah i think so” bringing my hands to his face, pulling him down into a kiss. 

“Did so good for me” he says once he pulls back, “always so good to me” he says peppering kisses all over my face. 

“I love you” i mumble to him

“I love you more” rubbing small circles on my sides, as he looks at me, a wide smile on his face. 

“Can you go grab my book?” I ask him with a small pout on my lips

“Oh im not done with you yet” quinn says with a smirk playing his face, before flipping us over, my hips now straddling his lap. 

“I think this is next to go” pulling at my top, undoing the strings in the back pulling it from my body tossing it somewhere in the boat, my top now completely bare to him. 

“Now where was i?” he says licking his lips, before crashing ours together. 

[wandaslamb]

One of those days

Parings: Step-mom!Wanda x fem!reader

warnings: none just fluff and wholesomeness :))

a/n: I felt sad and wanted to write something to take my mind off things, so I decided to write something short. I did not proofread this nor felt like editing it so if there are mistakes I'm so sorry, i wanted to post this for the people who also have bad days maybe this can help, I dunno lol. anyways back to girl rotting and what not, enjoy!! :D

Word count: 1.1k

“Malysh, I’m home!..” Wanda sat her bags down on the couch frowning, usually once she comes home you're running to her with open arms. Since your dad was on a business trip it left you with her. It’s been a couple of days and university had been kicking your ass. 

mentally you weren't feeling the best, and it had been eating you away until today after class it broke you. 

“Baby.. where are you?” She walked upstairs to your bedroom, only to find you curled up in the bed with the covers over your head. 

“oh!! hi darling!!” her usual smile appeared on her face before uncovering your head, finding you teary-eyed and sniffling. “Angel…angel what’s wrong?” your cries started to get louder as she sat you up pulling you in her lap. 

“hey.. hey look at me.” She turned your head to face hers wiping away the tears from your face. “talk to me Lyubov..tell Mommy what’s wrong.” 

you started to speak but you just broke down in her arms, she let out a sigh and put her chin on your head rubbing your back to help you with your breathing.

“oh, it’s one of those days isn’t it?” you nodded into her chest.

“aww baby…don’t worry, mommy’s here and I have all the time in the world to be with you..” 

She shifted on the bed to make you both comfortable rocking you both as you started to calm down a little bit.

“i-i’m sorry... I just-“ you started but she shushed you, running her hands through your hair. “You have nothing to be sorry about printsessa, let mommy take care of you.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, “I know you don’t wanna talk when you’re in this state, But I don’t need you to say anything I just need you to listen to me, honey?” You nodded playing with her fingers. 

“It’s all right, baby, It's ok to have these days...Even the people who seem to be the happiest, strongest, perfect individuals on Earth, go through tough days… It happens to me too, baby. Remember?” she started to smile again.

“Remember that even Mommy sometimes is in a bad mood and doesn’t feel good.” 

“yea..” you sniffed 

“Yeah? And what do you do to help me when I’m in a bad mood?” 

“I try to make you feel better..” she nodded before pulling you back into her chest. 

“That’s right! but right now, it’s time to make my baby feel better and I know exactly what to do about it,” she spoke in a matter-of-fact tone that made you giggle a little. 

“you do?” 

“Yes, Of course, I do silly! first off I think my baby deserves some mommy kisses..” She started to kiss you all over your face before she landed on your lips.

your giggles filled the room, as she kissed all over your face and neck, before stopping and moving your hair out your face moving your so that you would face her. 

“There’s that beautiful face I know and love, now mommy needs to tell you something important..” your smile quickly turned back into a frown. your anxieties started to show its face again as you removed your hand from hers but she quickly held it again rubbing the back of it to reassure you you were fine.

“Are you ready to hear it?”

you slowly nodded as she took a deep breath and smiled, “I love you.”

she took a hold of your face and looked into your eyes wiping your forming tears.

“I love you very very much angel.” your tears started to fall again your hands pressed up to your face as she pulled you right back into her. 

“Aww, malysh,” she rubbed your back. 

“shhh it’s ok, mommy’s got you... I didn’t mean to make you cry again but you needed to hear it. I love you so much, you mean the world to me..” she sighed. 

“I know you have many responsibilities, and with everything that is going on sometimes you feel overwhelmed but I’m here for you, printsessa. I’m here to help you recharge, on the days you feel drained like today, and I’m here for you on the days you have everything under control and your energy matches the one of a little bunny because you're always my little energetic bunny..” she giggled.

“But still, I’m here for you, sweetheart always and I’m so grateful to be able to do that, cause you know I wouldn't stand to see my bunny like this and not do something about it, right?” you lifted your head and nodded at her before putting your head back on her chest. 

“Yes, that’s because you’re important to me, honey. You’re my good girl, My precious baby girl, I will always be here when you need me I promise you.” 

“I love you mama..” you mumbled into her chest and she laughed before kissing the top of your head. 

She froze for a moment letting the word ‘mama’ ring through her head, out of all the years she’s been with your dad you’d never call her that. It stuck something in her something so… soft and endearing which filled her with so much love.

“I love you too, honey.” she pulled you up to face her again. “Are you feeling a little bit better now darling?” 

“yeah, a little bit..”

“Good. But I’m not done cuddling and spoiling you tonight, I think my baby deserves to have a nice dinner.” 

“I don’t need-“

“No no, honey you need to eat. How about I make your favorite food and you're going to be a good girl for me and eat it. I’m thinking my famous Chicken paprikash how does that sound?” you excitedly nodded Wanda made this dish a lot when she first moved in with you and your dad, and it soon became a meal you loved for her to make. 

“I’ll also let you choose what movies we can watch tonight.. but for right now, we can just cuddle a little bit more.” She held out her arms, you melting right back into them listening to her heart beating and the breaths she took as she started to hum softly as she slowly rocked you. 

“Don’t worry, baby…everything will be all right. You'll be fine, Mommy’s here, and I’ve got you. You’re safe with me, sweetheart, There’s nothing that can hurt you, I will not allow anything to hurt you, not while you’re safe and secure in Mommy’s arms. I will take care of you, always my sweet, precious, beautiful baby girl.”

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Gemini Coven Better Watch Out

kai parker x reader | requested

summary: kai comes back from his sister's with new magic and a new mission

tags: rough kissing, neck kissing, dirty talk, breeding kink, unsafe sex, biting

word count: 2.1k

a/n: biggest apologies for the time it took to fill this!! also, i realize now, i could've done this in headcanon format and probably had it out sooner, but ngl i've kinda wanted to use the scene post-kai taking jo's magic in a work anyway, so it works out lol

Kai comes back from his sister’s with a newfound energy. The recently-merged siphon witch had been feeling ill the last twelve hours, and after wondering what it could be to make him so sick, he decided to seek her advice. Despite hating him for all he’s done, Jo’s still a doctor, and she’s probably the only one that could have any clue how to help him. So Kai went alone, not wanting to freak out Ric with the both of you there, and hoped his sister would take pity on his weakened state.

He barely gets through the doorway before grabbing your shoulders and kissing you passionately. He backs you up to the nearest wall. You can feel his dimples against your skin as he smiles. 

Kai feels healthy again. His strength has obviously returned, and he’s no longer sweating nor coughing up blood. Three different energies seem to swirl about in his blood. You can sense them, a witch yourself, and if he were to siphon you, you bet you’d get dizzy fast. 

His hands explore your body. Fingertips trail down your figure, until determined palms grip your waist. He kisses down your neck, kisses getting sloppier as his lips travel south. For a moment, he pauses, panting against your skin. You giggle, threading your hands through his hair, and take your opportunity to talk. 

“What’s all this for? Feeling better?”

He presses another kiss to your collarbone. “Much.”

“Good. What worked?”

“I needed Jo’s magic for the merge to work properly. Luke as a substitute made me the leader, but it didn’t give me the strength I needed because he wasn’t my twin.”

“She gave it to you?”

“With some convincing. But if she didn’t, I would’ve died, causing the death of the rest of our dumb coven, and all the prison worlds would have collapsed, leading to who knows what kind of destruction. That seemed to convince her.”

“Well, good. Because I can’t have you dying on me. I love you too much for you to leave me.”

He smiles, then kisses again. His teeth lightly graze your neck, and you drop your hands from his hair to his own neck in surprise. 

Kai’s always spurred on by those words, but today, they seem to set a fire in him more than ever. He teases the skin beneath your shirt as he pulls at the fabric. His lips reattach to your neck, kissing and nipping along it as if it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. When you put a hand to his chest, his heart is racing. 

You’re not sure what’s gotten him in such a mood at three in the afternoon, but the more heated he gets, the more you start to burn between your legs. You start to clench them together, fighting the feeling, but he notices quickly with a tsk of the tongue. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” he clicks, then picks you up and tosses you gently onto the couch. 

Kai climbs on top of you as you start to laugh and writhe on the soft material. He’s like an animal that’s captured its prey, but wants to tease it first. A dark look takes over his eyes, contradicting the smile that still rests on his face. His clothed hard makes contact with your bare leg, making you gulp. One look down reveals the wet spot forming under your skirt. He pets it gently, eliciting a moan from you.

He kisses your knee before moving his lips down your inner thigh. Excitement grows, however, so does curiosity. You want him, but you want answers first. Specifically, what happened at his sister’s that’s gotten him so turned on? Is it the volume of magic in his blood? The overwhelming power? Or is it a degradation from her mouth? His need to prove himself in spite of her words?

You open your mouth to ask, but his eyes meet yours as soon as you do. His dark look waivers your confidence. His fingers dig underneath your panties, stimulating your clit with ease. Your breath catches, causing you to squeal. A shiver runs through your body. He positions himself to kiss your lips at the same time he’s touching you. 

Question temporarily forgotten, you capture his face in his hands to kiss him back. He’s rough, still, pulling your bottom lip with his teeth and clutching your side between his nails, but remains gentle on your most sensitive tissue. Kai pries your legs open wider with his own. His hard is desperate against the rough material of his jeans. He rubs it along your leg every time he drops his lips back down to your neck, then up to your face again. The friction gets him panting and you hungry. You ache with a need for him to fill you. His teasing is too much, heating up your body, but neglecting where you need him most. 

“Kai,” you whimper, giving into the need. You can get him to do almost anything you want when you say his name with that tone. The touch-starved man turns to butter for you.

“What’s it, baby? Whatcha need?”

“Need you. Need your-” you reach for him, but your finger tips only graze his stomach. The space between your bodies is closing in as he starts to grind more on your leg. 

“Need me, hm?” He whispers it into your neck, causing another shiver. “Where do you need me?” The two fingers on your clit slip between your folds. You bite your lip and grab at his waist for support. “Need me here?”

As good as it feels, it’s not enough. You whine, squeezing your walls together against his fingers. He gets the hint, but teases you further anyway. 

“No? What about here?” He pushes a little deeper. A bit of smirk graces his face and you resist the urge to brazenly spit up at him. “Not there either?” He clicks his tongue once, as if stumped on where you need him. 

“Kai,” you try again. Your body sweats as you near your high. His name comes out mangled and weak. 

“Ah, I know now. You need my cock, is that right?” Your heart skips a beat at the vulgar term falling from his lips. “That’s it. You want me to fill you up completely. You need me pressed up close as I thrust into you, hm?” You whine more. He removes his fingers from your heat to rub on your clit again. “You want me to make you come, so that I glide so easily in and out of you? So that I can fit you so tightly, you can’t even remember your name?” He licks a stripe up your neck, then nips at your earlobe. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.” Kai pauses, pulling your skirt and panties down to your ankles, then immediately removing his own clothes, too. He holds himself in one hand while using the other to bring you back to the edge. You squeeze your eyes shut, pleasure overwhelming your body. “That’s it, c’mon. You’re doing so well. So close.”

“Kai,” you mutter, feeling him on your leg again. You clench around his fingers, but he lets you this time. Curse words spill from your lips as you reach your high. His name slips in between the strings of profanities, making his heart race a little more each time. He can’t wait to be inside you and fill you up the minute you’re ready. 

“You okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Need a moment?”

“No. I need you.”

He smirks, then positions himself in front of you, teasing your folds with his tip. “That’s my girl.” Kai leans forward to distract you with a kiss as he pushes into you. You moan into his mouth at the feeling, but there’s no pain. He made sure you’d be wet enough, and now, he can be sure you’re comfortable as he has his way with you. “Good?”

 “Yeah.” After a couple starter thrusts, you hook your legs around his waist. “Harder.”

He adjusts just slightly for a deeper angle. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ll fuck you so well your legs will be shaking, how’s that sound?” You giggle with excitement. “Mhm. I’m gonna fill you up, and you’re gonna feel so good. You’ll be dripping by the time I’m done with you. You’d look so beautiful all full and round, and everyone will know what happened and who got you knocked up. You’d be such a good mommy.” Kai pauses, sweat beading on his forehead. You’re not sure what is causing the sudden baby-talk, but you can’t describe the mixed emotions it makes you feel. His tone is full of excitement. His praise makes you feel rich. 

“Kai,” you whine, unsure what to say. 

His focus, though, is clearly elsewhere. “I’m gonna give you a baby, hm? I’m gonna fuck you so well. Fill you up, and stay inside until you’re good and bred, and not gonna pull out til I’m sure it took. How’s that sound?”

You open your mouth to respond, but a deep thrust makes you moan instead. He smiles, entering a pace that suits you both. 

“That’s it, baby. Let go.” His hands hold you still as he buries himself inside your heat. Praises and profanities leave his lips, but your mind is too fuzzy for you to pick them up. You’re close to your high and he knows it, watching the way your breathing gets heavy and your body clenches harder. “C’mon,” he urges, nipping your shoulder again. 

Kai’s vocal and rough most of the time, but never in this way. But ironically, you were just thinking about it’d be like to have a baby with him. You think he’d be a good dad, despite his past; he’d make sure his kid never suffered the way he did. 

“I’m close,” you mutter, spurring him on.

“I know, c’mon. I’m almost there, too.”

A sudden feeling of warmth shoots through your body. A fullness you’ve never felt before. Kai pants against your skin after his own release, but doesn’t slow down until you reach yours. You do, a second later, from the heavenly feeling of his seed inside you. He doesn’t pull out, plugging you up as promised, and revels in the sensation.

For a moment, you stay like that, with his body atop yours and his face buried in your neck. But then you dig your hands in his hair and pull him up to face you. His cheeks are dark red, and a smile brings out his dimples. You bring him in for a kiss, to which he complies, kissing you much more softly than earlier. When you break it off, he rises, sitting up on his knees.

You follow the action, resting your weight on your elbows. You’re still connected, but a little has leaked out from the movement. You watch it, then cock your head at him.

“So what brought this on, huh?”

“Was it too much?” A look of worry overtakes his face, but you reassure him with a shake of your head.

“No, just unexpected. I didn’t know you had that in you. What caused it?”

He hesitates, but then admits what truth he had learned only an hour prior. “Jo’s pregnant.”

You blink in surprise. “What?”

“When she gave me her magic, I could feel it.”

“And that has to do with this… how?”

Upon sensing the new life in his sister’s womb, something spurred within him. Whether it was a need to compete with her - to be the one to produce the coven’s next set of twins - or to prove that he is just as capable of creating and raising a baby, he has no idea. But that moment of realization brought an urge to him immediately. The need to breed you, to make you full, but also, to bring something as definite and permanent into your lives as a baby, to show everyone how much he loves you, that he is capable of love and willing to change. 

A thousand reasons flood his mind, but he isn’t sure how to word any of them. Emotions are still so new to him, it’s a mystery thinking about which ones are appropriate for which situations. 

“I don’t know,” he finally says. 

You understand. Even if he has some idea, he’s clearly not ready to try and explain it. Sometimes, it takes time, but he always reopens the conversation later, when he’s more apt to talk about it. He’s getting much better, the closer you grow. 

“Huh,” you shrug.

He smiles, full of relief. “Huh.”

[measuredingold]

my soul is useless without you

author's note: part two to i'd walk through hell for you is finally here ! i'm not sure if i want to do a third part, but we’ll see lol but i'm currently working on something for folio 👀 as always, i hope you enjoy and feedback is appreciated ! also, if yall have any requests, send them my way :) i'm in the mood to write but inspiration is running thin lol

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

divider: @saradika-graphics

word count: 3.5k

cross posted on ao3 / part one

cw/tw: angst, hurt/comfort, Noah Sebastian Is Bad At Feelings But A Good Friend, reader is going through it, anxiety, hints/mentions of depression, noah is just a good guy and cares about reader a lot ( more than he realizes ), friends to lovers pining lol, 18+ minors do not interact

It's when Jolly asks Noah in-between takes if he'd heard from you recently that the anxiety finally settles in.

Because he doesn't know the last time he's heard from you. Which isn't normal.

He's a bad texter, notorious for looking at messages and making a note to reply to them later or replying in his mind, but he always makes sure to reply to you whenever the two of you aren't together. It's just always been a thing, to always have some form of communication with you when he wasn't over at yours or if you weren't at his, so it panics him when he can't remember the last time he'd spoken to you.

He goes through your messages and finds that it wasn't him this time who didn't respond, but instead it was you. Relief washes over him briefly, the guilt of forgetting to respond to his best friend vanishing, but then that anxiety comes back full force. 

You didn't respond.

You always responded.

He sends off a quick message to you, apologizing for being in studio mode and not leaving the house and asks if you're alright. He waits. They go through another take, he somehow doesn't fuck it up even though his mind isn't all the way there. You still haven't responded by the fifth take and that's when he starts to feel sick, stomach twisting with the worry of what could be wrong. 

He tries to think back to if you've ever gone this long without speaking and he can't think of a time when that has happened. 

"Earth to Noah." Jolly's voice pulls him away from his thoughts.

"Oh. Uh, sorry." 

"All good, man." His bandmate eyes him for a second before his eyes flicker towards his phone. "She respond?"

"Um. No." His brows furrowed as he stared at his phone, the black screen mocking him. "Kind of worried."

"Yeah... I am, too." Jolly murmurs. He clicks around on the screen a few times before twisting his chair around to fully face Noah, arms crossing over his chest. "You should go over there. Check and make sure she's alright."

Noah raises a brow at him. "We're in the middle of recording?"

"And?" Jolly shrugs, waving him off. "We got a lot done today, we can wrap it up. Something's obviously wrong and she might need you. That's more important than some song."

He blinks at his friend, letting his words settle in. Jolly's right, he thinks. You are more important than whatever song they're working on. That confirmation makes him feel funny, something tightening beneath his chest but he ignores it, nodding slowly. 

"Okay. You wanna come?"

Jolly shakes his head. "Nah. The both of us might be overwhelming. If you do need me then call, if not..." He shrugs again before lifting himself up out of his chair, groaning softly to himself, "...might be best for just you to go. She'd probably feel better if it's just you, anyways. You know how she is."

Noah isn't quite sure what he means, but nods along anyways. He checks his phone again and still no text, but he notices that you read the message. He should feel relieved at the sign of life but it only makes his anxiety worse, stomach twisting violently. 

"Okay. I'll text you when I get there." 

He's practically running out of the studio after that, the only thing on his mind was you. He needed to make sure you were okay. Deep down he knew that if this was him, you would've already been here, and he feels guilty all over again. He should've paid more attention, shouldn't have let this slip his mind so easily. He thinks back to your last messages together and how you were talking about your work day, overwhelmed and quite frankly, upset about it all. He should've paid closer attention.

He makes it to yours in record time, legs moving him to the door before he can even think about it. He sends up a quiet prayer to the universe that you had given him an extra key months ago and uses it to unlock the door, slowly pushing it open.

He calls out your name, but no answer.

His eyes sweep over your apartment as he enters, scanning the open space. Your kitchen looked untouched, minus the few dirty dishes that were in your sink. A few boxes of Chinese take-out and some bottles of water. He feels almost relieved. You'd been eating and as far as he can tell you'd been keeping yourself somewhat hydrated, so that was a plus. He knows how bad you can be when you get into this headspace - brain fog, forgetting to do basic things like eating and drinking water. But this... this is a step in the right direction.

His eyes move towards the living room and it's just about the same. A pile of blankets lay together at one end of the couch, pillows scattered along the length of the cushions. You'd been there quite a bit, he can tell, but other than that nothing was too bad.

Noah feels like he can breathe for just a second, eyes going straight to the cracked open door to your bedroom. He hears the faint hum of your television and hears the muffled voice of your favorite characters in your favorite comfort show. His chest tightens. You only ever watch it when things get bad inside your head, when things start to become too overwhelming and you need to cling onto something that you know. Something that won't throw any surprises at you and make things worse. 

He makes his way towards your room, ready to call out your name again as he pushes open your door but stops halfway. You're curled up in your bed, covered in a pile of blankets. He steps closer to get a better look at you and he doesn't think he's ever seen you look so peaceful. Lashes against the tops of your cheeks, lips parted. The crease between your brows is relaxed, which never happens. 

Noah takes a deep breath.

You're alright. He can see that you're safe and sound, at least for now, and that's enough for him. He shuts your door behind him and makes his way back into the main room, taking his shoes off by the door. He takes another deep breath to center himself as he looks around your space, hand finding its way to his hair. 

He decides he'll clean up your kitchen and living room. It isn't too bad, and it won't take him too long. He also just... doesn't want to leave yet. He'll wait until you wake up. Make you talk to him, ask what’s up. Probably make you eat something. Then he'll head home. 

Sounds like a good plan to him.

Even though your door is shut he still tries to be quiet, making sure to carefully wash and put away your dishes without making too much of a fuss. After the dishes, he throws away all the take-out boxes and water bottles. He even makes a note to take the trash out for you when he's all done, because he knows you would've done it for him. 

The constant reminder of you and knowing that you'd do something like this for him, and have, is the motivation he needs to continue. It makes him feel warm all over and he thinks how lucky he is to have someone like you as his best friend.

And he definitely ignores the bitter taste in his mouth at the word best friend. 

It's maybe an hour after he's finished, curled up on your couch that now has its pillows in place, and the pile of blankets are neatly folded and put away, that you finally emerge from your room. You rub the sleep out of your eyes, not noticing him on the couch at first, but when you do you make a noise of surprise that has Noah laughing.

"Hey."

He notices the slight flush of your cheeks but ignores it. "Hi?"

"I uh," He scratches the back of his neck, sending you a sheepish smile. "Hadn't talked to you in a few days. Got worried. So did Jolly. Told me to come over. Check on you. You were sleeping so I just," He throws his arms around, gesturing to the space around him, "cleaned up a little? Figured you would appreciate a clean house when you woke up so..." 

He's talking too much, he knows it, but he can't seem to stop the word vomit from coming out. Noah knows you wouldn't mind, but he was nervous, especially because all you do is stare at him without saying a word. Stare and stare and stare until you sniff, brows furrowing.

"...Thanks."

You're unusually quiet and it makes his stomach turn again. You sniff again and Noah swears you look like you're on the verge of tears, and he sits up on the couch. He watches you closely as you wring your hands together in front of you, mouth opening and closing as if you want to say something. You don't, and Noah catches the exact moment when your bottom lip trembles, and he's moving before he can even think about it.

"Hey. It's okay. You’re okay."

He tries to keep his voice soft and free of any panic, but his heart is beating so rapidly against his chest he swears you can hear it. You sniff again, head shaking as your lip continues to tremble and he does the only thing he can think of. He pulls you into his arms and presses you into his chest. You don't move for a second, but eventually your arms circle around his waist. You squeeze, tight, but he doesn't mind. He just squeezes you back. 

Your body begins to shake as the cries start to rack through you, the sound muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Noah swallows down the lump that was beginning to form, cheek resting on the top of your head. He's always hated when you cry. He himself wasn’t one for much display of emotions, but when it came to the people he cared about, he hated seeing them anything but happy. 

Especially you.

He's seen you cry a few times. Well, more than a few times. Sometimes it was over nothing, and then sometimes it was over an incredibly cute dog you'd seen scrolling on Twitter. He didn't mind those, but when it was over something serious, he fucking hated that. He never wanted you to be anything but happy, and whenever you weren’t, it’s like a piece of him breaks. 

“What’s wrong?” He whispers into your hair, trying to pull you even closer to him.

“Everything.” You eventually mumble against his chest, sucking in a deep breath as you try to control your tears. “Fucking everything is wrong.” 

He fucking hates the way that answer makes him feel. His chest feels like it's on fire, and he swears his heart just fucking broke at how sad you sounded, voice muffled by his shirt. He squeezes you to his chest again.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

He wants you to talk about it, to tell him what's wrong so he can make it better. Noah knows it'll probably be damn near impossible to even do that, but god, he'd try absolutely anything to make your tears stop. You take a long moment to respond, trying to control your breathing, before you eventually shake your head against his chest.

"Not right now." 

"Okay.” He mumbles, raising a hand to smooth down your hair. “That's okay, we don't have to."

"Thank you."

You stay like that for a moment, in the middle of your living room. Noah doesn't plan on letting go any time soon, thinking for a split second that he wished he could keep you in his arms forever. If you were there, he'd always know if you were okay. The thought fades before he could think too hard about it when you finally pull away from him, and Noah catches sight of your slight red and blotchy face. He frowns.

He doesn't remember the last time he's ever seen you so sad. So defeated. Whatever was going on really pained you, and he wishes you'd just tell him so he can fix it. Another passing, fleeting thought, but he thinks he'd do just about anything right now to see you smile again. 

"Have you eaten?" He breaks the silence between the two of you, not waiting to hear whatever you were planning on saying.

You blink up at him. "Um... no. Not since this morning. Had some fruit and coffee." 

"I figured." He guides you towards the couch, practically pushing you onto it. You snort when he grabs a throw blanket and dumps it onto you. "Pick something to watch." 

It's not a question, but more of a command, and Noah ignores the way his chest flutters at the small smile you give him. He turned away from you, pushing whatever feeling was brewing inside of him so far down and got his brain to focus. Food. You need food. To be honest, so does he. He’d been so worried about you for the last few hours that he didn’t even think of getting something to eat. 

It takes him a few minutes of rummaging around your kitchen to settle on making something easy - instant ramen. He’s surprised you hadn't eaten it all in the week you’ve been off-grid, but thankful nonetheless. Noah's way too impatient to wait any longer to actually cook something, especially knowing you hadn't eaten anything since this morning. Every so often he looked over his shoulder to watch you, wishing you'd say something, but would find you either staring blankly at the television or your phone.

A bitter taste settles in the back of his throat every time he turns back around to the stove. He hated this, and he fucking hated that he couldn't do a goddamn thing about it.

He brings your bowl to you once he's finished, already making a mental note to clean up the mess he had made while cooking. You blink up at him and reach for it, giving him a quiet, "Thank you."

Noah doesn't verbally say anything, just hums out a response as he ventures back into the kitchen to grab you something to drink. When he comes back he notices you had slowly begun to eat, and he feels his shoulders finally relax. Just knowing you ate something eases him, the tension in his body leaving him completely. You're already reaching out for the glass of water in his hand that he happily hands off to you, giving you a gentle smile.

"Need anything else?"

You shake your head, peering up at him. "No. Just want you to come sit with me." 

That same fluttery feeling beneath his chest returns and he wishes he could ignore it again, but it doesn't go away. No, it stays perched underneath his chest, as if it's decided that it's making a home there and never leaving. He doesn't say anything, just nods at your request before grabbing his own bowl and a Pepsi you had in the fridge before making his way back to you.

You wait until he's settled on the couch to scoot closer to him, legs pressed flushed together. You're already halfway through your ramen and for a split second he forgets that weird feeling in his chest, instead focusing on the intense pride filling him. He was able to get you to eat, he was able to help out in some way. Knowing you were alright for the most part and it was from his doing made him feel good.

The both of you eat in silence as whatever show you decided to put on plays in the background. He’s just now realized it was The Office, and he huffs out a small laugh at something Michael Scott said. Another one of your comfort shows, something easy. 

It isn't until you both are finished with your food and Noah's back in the kitchen cleaning up that you finally speak. He doesn't hear you come up behind him, focused on washing the dishes and making sure everything's clean and good to go, so he can't help but jump when he feels your arms slip around his waist and squeeze.

"Shit." He swears, followed by a breathy chuckle. "You scared me."

You don't say anything to that, just squeeze him harder and he feels you press your face against his back. Then ever so softly, he picks up the faintest, "Thank you," muffled against his back. His face flushes, eyes casting down to the soapy water his hands were currently submerged in. He's glad you can't see the blush on his cheeks, and he fucking hopes you can't hear the way his heart is pounding beneath his chest. Can probably feel it, though, and that makes his face burn even more. 

"For what?" He manages to mumble out, resuming his efforts. Your arms squeeze his waist again.

"For being here." You sound so small. "You don't have to be, but you are, and I can't thank you enough for that."

"You'd do it for me." His response comes easily, voice nonchalant because it's true. He knows you'd do the same for him, and the thought has his stomach flipping every which way. "And have done it for me. It's the least I can do."

You're silent after that but don't part from him, and Noah can't help the smile that spreads across his lips at the feeling of you rubbing your face against him. It makes him feel warm all over, and that damned fluttery feeling in his chest is back yet again. You stay like that until he's finished with the dishes, moving with him as he shuffles to the side to dry them off. You don't pick your head up even when he manages to turn in your arms, finally facing you. 

Noah's arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him and now you can rub your face against his chest. He laughs softly, pressing his cheek against the top of your head.

"Still don't wanna talk about it?" He knows he's pressing but he can't help it, a part of him still needs to know what's wrong and how he can fix this for you.

You shake your head. "Not yet. Tomorrow, okay? I just... don't wanna think about it tonight."

"Okay." He thinks he can handle that. 

"Thank you." You say again and finally lift your head up from his chest, blinking up at him. There's still a sadness there, roaming around behind your eyes, but not as prevalent as it was earlier. He’s at least done something right. "I'm really fucking lucky to have you, you know that, right?"

The way you're looking up at him is overwhelming, Noah's throat tightening at the softness surrounding your tired eyes. You smile at him and this time it reaches your gaze, not faked but real, and his heart slams against his chest. A thought passes his mind again, something he hasn't thought of in years, and he pushes it back with a hard swallow.

"You're just saying that because you didn't have to do the dishes."

You roll your eyes but that smile never drops from your lips, and Noah thinks he'd like to keep you smiling like that for the rest of his life. 

"Shut up. I'm being serious." You're giggling now, eyes crinkling and he catches a glimpse of the real you for the first time in hours - probably days, weeks even. 

"So am I." Noah yelps when you pinch his side, your laughter growing louder. "Hey!"

"I'm trying to be nice here, asshole. You can at least try, too."

He softens at that, eyes meeting yours. He's well aware his face is on fire right now, cheeks pink.

"You already know I'm lucky to have you. Didn't realize I had to say it."

Even if he doesn't say it often, he is very lucky. So incredibly lucky to have you in his life, for sticking by him and for understanding him. For always being patient with him. Jolly reminds him occasionally how lucky he is to have you, how all of them are lucky to have someone like you in their lives. He doesn't know what the fuck he or anyone did to be so deserving of you, but dammit, he's fucking thankful for it everyday. 

You don't say anything, just continue to beam up at him and Noah can't seem to stop himself, tilting his head down to brush his lips against your forehead. He feels you press further into his chest, if it was even possible, and practically melt in his arms. 

He wishes he could keep you here forever, tucked away in his arms. He thinks there isn't much he wouldn't do to keep you safe, to make sure you were okay, and that thought alone scares him. He'd never admit it, at least not out loud, and he tucks that thought away for another time. Or to possibly be never thought of again, he doesn't know. He doesn't really care.

No, all he cares about right now is that you're okay, at least for now, and that you're nestled against his chest like it's the only place you want to be. 

And that's enough for him. 

[ethansluvbot]

riding ethan for the first time please!!! love your writing btw<3

CRUEL SUMMER | SUB!ETHAN LANDRY

warnings: adult content, spoilers?, rough sex, riding, unprotected sex, and smut :)

an: i just got really sick randomly? anyways, i'm so so sorry for not posting in awhile. i just started a new school and even though its the end of the year its stressful. it also didn't help that i had horrible writers block. also, I've never written smut before so i will get better at this eventually! i'm binge watching the harry potter movies while eating soup now lol.

with a ton of convincing from sam, ethan and tara you decided to volunteer for a summer camp. sure, spending you day with kids had its downs, but you enjoyed seeing ethan interact with kids.

the kids screams filled your ears as you run to pick up their messes. the sticky hair didn't help your anxiety at all. you sat next to sam with your head on her shoulder.

"how did you convince me to do this shit?"

a quick slap hit your shoulder as you let out a yelp, "no cursing, there's kids around. plus you could never say no to ethan, it looks like he's enjoying it."

"i know. he's been going on about this since january.," you know ethan was a total soft guy, he never would harm a soul. it took him awhile but he finally convinced you to help out.

you both heard footsteps approach you, a sigh came out as you saw his shoes. immediately you jump up and wrap your arms around his neck.

"thank god you're here to save me from sam, she's trying to make me actually do something." he let out a chuckle as he waved to sam.

"im here to take you away," he smirked as you smiled back at sam. you heard her softly gagging beginning to walk away.

"hey! i missed you today, it seemed like you were having fun with your cabin."

"i was! i actually taught a kid how to swim today." you grabbed on to his hand. you loved this side of ethan the soft, dorky and funny side of him to be exact.

"umm, i was wondering where you see us in the future? i know we have a little until we finish college but it's been on my mind."

"well, to be exact i see us in well paying jobs, a modern family home and hopefully kids of our own." you felt his mood shift with that. you might've not been the most kid involved person, but it was great to know you would consider the idea.

you both stepped into the cabin immediately grabbing pajamas. you felt ethans shattered breath at your neck. turning around you slinked your arms around his torso.

"can i help you?"

"god- i want to kiss you so bad right now."

you gave in to ethans innocent act, attaching both of your lips. his cold hands found his way up your back as you moaned in surprise. he hummed in pleasure, kissing down your stomach.

you flip the two of you over, "i wanted to try something new if that's fine?"

he nodded intently, he trusted you with his life and knew you wouldn't do anything to hurt either of you. he's desperate to finally get you undressed as he tugs at your pants.

"someones needy," you tease unbuttoning your jean shorts. his hands explored your body, undoing your bra and throwing it to the side. ethan was already undressed by the time you turned around.

"lay down."

he threw his head back as you pushed yourself down onto his cock. you put your hand over his mouth being careful not to arouse any suspicion.

"will you be a good boy and be quiet?" he hummed in response, "words baby."

"yes, ill be good," he let a muffeled whined out.

you let your nails scratch down his abs as you begin to move. his fingers begin to trace circles on your clit as you bounce. you were still adjusting to his size but since ethan was so eager you began to move.

"don't stop," he lets an exaggerated sigh come out of his mouth. you grab his chin making him look at you. he keeps his hands on your hips as you trail kisses down his neck.

you rested your hands on his chest helping him move you. even without him speaking he could tell he enjoyed this greatly. you felt his hand kneed at your ass.

looking down you see his glossy eyes look up at you, "aw, poor baby. are you not getting enough attention."

you were almost using him for your own pleasure, which you felt bad but, oh did it feel so good. he was getting anxious as you felt him squirming.

you felt him thrust into you a few more times. you could feel his tenseness, only meaning that he was reaching his high. leaning down you planted a kiss onto his lips.

"oh fuck- i love you."

[lsunstreakerl]

surprise! SH!Charles POV!! this is just little snapshots of him and max through the years before they get together- I was going to put it in chapter 20 but it didn't flow as well as I would have liked, and I like it too much to just completely cut. also I figured you guys would still want to read it lol :)

2.3k words never say I don't love u all

The Dutch boy is being yelled at again. The sky is grey, overcast and drizzling, and Charles has just had a supremely unsatisfying race.

The weather feels reflective of his mood. Part of him wants to stomp his foot that it isn't fair, the other part of him wants to cry. Jules has been teaching him to channel his emotions in other ways, and Charles is enrolled in piano lessons now. Maybe if he bruises his fingers on the keys hard enough it will feel worth it.

The Dutch boy had gotten first, but Charles can see him and his trainer by the pitwall. His trainer is dry under the awning, shouting so loud the tendons on his neck are straining. Charles thinks the other boy's name might start with an "M", and he's standing in the rain, shoulders pulled tight with his fingers digging into his helmet.

His trainer must be very stupid, to let his athlete stand in the rain like that. Then again, Charles also thinks it's crazy for anyone their age to have a trainer at all- most of them are coached by their parents still.

Charles is still thinking about it in the car, helmet resting on top of his thighs.

"Papa? Would I race better if you yelled?"

His father reaches over to set a hand on his knee, gripping it gently before shaking it.

"You are comparing yourself to the other boys again."

Charles frowns. He's not comparing, he's just... noticing some differences.

"But he wins."

His father sighs, and he looks pensive at the road ahead of them.

"So it is about Max."

Max, that's his name. Charles knew that, but he lets the letters roll around in his head anyways, all sharp sounds and blunt edges.

"Charlot, I would not do that to you. I could not- you are my son. I love you."

"I love you too!"

Charles isn't sure what "not yelling" and "being his son" have to do with each other in this context, because he's only ever seen Max with his trainer before. The idea of him with a dad is weird.

Papa likes to tuck Charles in and play board games after dinner with them. He likes to read stories with funny voices and dance in the kitchen with Maman, he likes to point out the different boats in the harbor and watch terrible sitcoms in the living room.

Charles isn't sure he's ever even seen Max smile.

------

"Putain! Stupid son of a-"

Charles chucks his helmet at the wall, and even the dent it leaves behind isn't enough to cool down his anger. Stupid race. Stupid kart, stupid rules, stupid Max-

He peels out of his racesuit, aggressively yanking on a pair of jeans from the floor and a sweatshirt out of his suitcase.

Stupid fucking Dutchie, thinking the whole track is his, and everyone else should just let him by, here comes the future Formula 1 racer-

Charles won't do that, and he's paid the price for it today with a fucking DNF. A DNF, and it isn't even his fault.

The good news is Charles knows whose fault it actually is. The better news is that Charles has a good idea of where to find him. He slips out of the hotel, and he needs to be quick, because Jules and Papa will want to talk to him, tell him kind reassuring words.

Charles doesn't want kindness, Charles wants to fight.

Sure enough, Max is tucked away near the car park, in an old valets booth that's no longer in use. He's in ratty shoes and an even rattier sweater, logo for a local football team long faded.

He also has a mostly empty bottle of gin between his fingers.

Max lifts his head when Charles gets closer, lips curling into a sneer. His eyes are bright and focused, despite how much he's had to drink, and Charles still wants to punch him in the face.

"What, are you here for driving tips?"

Stupid cocky fuck, Charles hates him. His blood is boiling, and he's still pissed off as he slams his hands down, gets right up into Max's face. His breath smells like gin, and there's a slight swelling around his left eye- he must have knocked it into his helmet somewhere.

"Fuck you, you stupid cunt- what is your problem? Why do you think the whole track belongs to you, seriously, what is your deal? Is it brain damage? Can we fix it? Can we fix you-"

Charles is abruptly cut off as Max grabs the front of his shirt and yanks him down, and suddenly there are chapped lips pressed to his, and Max tastes like nicotine and gin, like a vice, like something Charles shouldn't have. Something Charles knows better than to indulge in.

He's kissing him back anyways.

------

Charles is sixteen, and Max is going to move into Formula 1. Charles hates him. Charles hates him because he's arrogant and rude, and he hates him because he doesn't care about anyone else, and he hates him because he had completely and irrevocably changed Charles' life when they were fourteen, and he was too drunk to remember it.

It's a burden Charles bears alone, and it's a memory he keeps tight to his chest. Not even Pierre knows about it, because despite being fourteen Charles had understood that it would be much, much worse for Max if anyone found out.

Sometimes when he's feeling particularly alone he'll light a cigarette. Won't smoke it- just light it, balance it on the windowsill and look outside. He remembers the way Max had kissed him, chapped lips and liquor and desperation, the way Max kissed like it was another fight. Something else to win.

Charles hadn't even been aware he liked boys.

------

The bass at this party is so loud Charles can't even hear himself think. He's pretty sure the walls are vibrating, and also his bones, and his brain too. He's been trying to find the bathroom for ten minutes, and he's hopelessly lost in the dark. The hallway occasionally strobes with flashing lights, because whoever owns this random house they've ended up at throws parties a lot.

Charles had to sign an NDA before he stepped in.

His phone is in a locker near the entryway.

He passes a bathroom with two girls doing lines, and he spots white tablets scattered across the counter.

He's not going into that one- Charles is in the middle of the race season, and he's not a huge fan of pills in general.

He's ended up in a residential wing now, several closed doors and suspicious noises that are definitely sex.

He spots a cracked door and swings it open further, only to stop dead in his tracks, stunned.

It's Max.

It's Max and some other guy, and Max is miles of pale skin and long lanky limbs in the sheets, head tossed back into the pillows, and Charles needs to leave.

Neither of them even notice he's there when Charles takes a few quick steps back, feet muffled in the carpet as he tries to put the door exactly the way it was.

He feels like a voyeur, but the image is burned into his eyelids, the long line of Max's throat, the way his wrists were pinned above him, and Charles' brain short circuits for a quick second, because he's pretty sure now that he's thinking about it, the other man with the curls and tanned skin-

Okay. Max is hooking up with his teammate. That's a choice.

Charles' nose wrinkles as he thinks about it. There are several other drivers Max could've decided to do that with- drivers in their generation.

Nothing against Daniel, it's just. Max has options. Charles isn't even saying it should've been him, because Max could hook up with Pierre and that would be fine.

He's grinding his teeth.

Charles is a liar. That would not be fine, he would have to kill Pierre, or marry Esteban, or something equally as horrific to get back at him.

It's cool. Max can do whatever he wants as long as it's not beating Charles in a race. It doesn't matter that he was Charles' first kiss, or that they're sixteen days apart, or that Charles feels like he's constantly chasing him, always a few steps behind.

It's just-

Charles has been cradling Max's secrets close to his chest for years. The way he tastes, the dark set of his eyes when he's upset, the way Charles has known him since they were little.

Daniel can fuck him all he wants-

Charles knows he and Max have something deeper. He can be patient, he can prove himself, he can make himself into an opponent that Max can't ignore.

It won't even be a question then; of who deserves him. Charles knows he'll come out on top.

------

"Calamar, why are you not just opening the damn bottle."

Pierre is glaring at him, but Charles can't open it now, because they're hanging out at the rooftop pool. Max is on the other side of the pool with Daniel and Carlos and Hulk, and if he sees that Charles actually can open his own wine, he'll stop doing it for him.

Charles is in too deep to lose that now, even if it means floating in the shallow end, frustratingly sober, waiting for Max to notice and come open it.

Normally this plan works great.

Normally, Max is not distracted by three of the people Charles dislikes most at the moment.

Daniel, because walking in on them has sparked a rivalry Daniel doesn't understand and Charles isn't willing to admit.

Carlos, because Max likes an accent and hair with lots of volume, and Charles can acknowledge that his teammate is hot, even if he thinks he's annoying and slightly stuck up.

Hulk, because once Max starts drinking and getting excited about something he goes full Dutchie, rosy cheeks and gesticulating hands, and Hulk likes to enable that behavior.

Pierre follows Charles' eyes.

"You have got to be- fucks sake, give me that."

He yanks away the bottle, and it's open and back in Charles' hands within seconds.

Pierre is still glaring.

"And yet when I do it, you don't give me bedroom eyes."

Charles rolls his eyes as he takes a long drink.

"You don't want my bedroom eyes. And I don't want to hear it, you're still all hung up on-"

Pierre snatches the bottle back again, and when he raises it to his mouth he keeps drinking.

Charles takes the hint.

------

Apparently, Max has decided he likes Charles now, when they're in their twenties, instead of when they were younger, which is when normal people make friends. He does this by finding Charles after every single race and talking his ear off.

They've been calling it "maxsplaining" in the media and around the paddock, but Charles thinks that's stupid. Anyone who knows Max knows that it isn't a post-race thing specifically- Max just likes to talk.

If he thinks he has a listener, that is.

Charles listens.

Charles always listens.

------

"Red flag, Red flag, return to pits."

"What is it? What happened?"

"Come back to pit Charles."

------

Max looks small in the hospital bed. He's pale, swamped in thick blankets. It's technically not visiting hours anymore, but Charles is well liked enough in Silverstone to get snuck upstairs for a few minutes.

The nurse had said he was asleep, and that he was on pain meds.

Charles hasn't been in a hospital since his father died.

------

"You are staring."

Charles startles as Max breaks off his speech about domestic shorthairs, which is genuinely an achievement, because Max really likes to talk about cats.

"Sorry- I am listening."

Max narrows his eyes.

"Are you?"

Charles carefully sets his drink back down on the bar, leans in just a little bit closer. Max had cut the smoking before he went into Formula 1, but Charles can still smell the gin on his breath, the spot on his lip where he's been biting it during the driver meetings.

Charles wonders if he still kisses the same.

"To you? Always."

------

Max is on the roof, the night sky splattered with stars above them. Charles is careful with his grip on the bottle of red between his fingers as he makes his way over, feet crunching on the gravel before he lowers himself to the ground next to Max.

Max turns his head to look at him, mouth twisted in a frown.

"If you are here to gloat I do not want to hear it."

Charles hums. Their thighs are almost touching, and it would only take the tiniest shift, but-

Not yet.

He holds the bottle to Max.

"I can't get it."

Max's eyebrows raise, and Charles catches himself wondering if Max has been indulging him this entire time- if he's just as aware as Charles is that he doesn't need help with the bottle.

"You live in Monaco. You're French-adjacent, you drive for an Italian team- there is no way you cannot open a wine bottle."

Charles just shrugs.

"If you cannot either then you can just say that."

Max snorts, but he's opening the bottle anyways, passing it back over to Charles.

"Here."

"Merci."

Charles isn't sure how long they sit there passing the bottle between them until he tips it back and hears Max laugh softly next to him.

"It is of course empty, Charles."

Oh.

Charles frowns at the bottle before looking back up at Max.

"I have more in my room, if you would like...?"

Max looks back at him, and there's something complicated in his eyes, something Charles can't quite figure out.

He nods.

Charles pulls him to his feet, and they're both giggling as they clumsily sneak through the hallways, back into Charles' hotel room, Charles' bed, Charles' sheets.

Max is gone when he wakes up.